Facing the end
by Feline-Overlord
Summary: They are the last ones. It will be over soon. There is nothing to lose. OS, Gijinka, MKxGK
1. Chapter 1

"So this is it?"

Those were the first words spoken in hours. And Galacta Knight didn't reply to them. He was sure that Meta Knight didn't expect an answer anyway. The two warriors sat on top of a mountain somewhere near Onion Ocean. Both had their wings unfolded and drooped lazily, even Meta Knight, who preferred to keep his disguised as a cape in times of peace. Peace.

Was this really what could be called 'peace'?

"The castle is probably gone already," Meta Knight continued. There was no bitterness, no sadness in his voice. Regret, yes, but it was a logical, reasonable kind of regret - untouched, emotionless, disconnected from the world. Galacta was sure the true pain would only set in later. If there was a later at all.

"Kirby had no chance." The blue knight's voice had become quieter at this. Galacta avoided his eyes. He himself hadn't known the other's apprentice for long, but he had had great potential... and he had been a child. He should have been able to grow up.

"Same with all the others," Meta said, disrupting Galacta's thoughts. His tone was still oddly calm: "Popstar is the last to go, the survivors from the other planets came here for shelter. They should have known..."

Meta Knight's voice faded into a quiet mumble and then into silence. They sat there in silence, not looking at each other. Down below, they could see how the flames came closer and closer. The air had become unusually warm, even for Popstar's climate and it tasted of smoke and ash.

"It will be here soon. We can't run. I just wish I could hav-"

Meta Knight didn't finish that sentence. Galacta Knight had spun around, grabbed him and pinned him down on his back.

"Shut up," he hissed, voice pained, "Just... be silent."

The pink warrior's grip loosened slightly after his outburst. Meta Knight twisted free, but didn't push him away. For a while the only sound was their breath, Galacta's short and ragged, Meta's calm, but quick. Then, slowly, the blue warrior reached up and gently pushed the other's mask upward. Galacta's red eyes narrowed, but he didn't resist.

"This is the first time I get to see your face."

No answer. In the meantime, the fire had reached the foot of their mountain. As it slowly crept upwards, the flames cast flickering shadows over both knights' faces. Galacta remained silent.

"Are you crying?"

The pink warrior shook his head. But there was no denying it - a single tear was making its path down his face, and both eyes were glistening with wetness. The tear reached Galacta's chin and fell onto Meta Knight's mask.

With a sudden motion, the pink warrior had grabbed it and torn it off, then thrown it to the side. It landed with a clattering sound somewhere behind them. Meta Knight stiffened. Silence.

"You are blind."

Galacta Knight's voice sounded hoarse. He hadn't used it for a long time now. Meta Knight's sightless, white eyes were still focused on the spot they had been while the mask had given him the ability to see. Slowly, very slowly, he nodded. Galacta didn't comment on it, losing interest in the topic quickly.

The fire had come so close it filled the air with sparks now. The heat seemed to become even more intense, barely bearable. But neither of them cared. Galacta squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

"I'm sorry."

His eyes shot open again. He didn't speak, but Meta seemed to guess his thoughts either way.

"For taking your title."

Galacta shrugged, not even caring at this point. What did a title mean to the dead?

"And for dragging you into a time you don't belong."

That hit a nerve. A flood emotions Galacta had been keeping in check before broke lose. A shiver passed his body - he didn't belong here, he could have stayed asleep in the crystal until death came to claim him in the catastrophe, he would never have had to deal with the loss of two generations of friends. Those that had died while he was sealed, now those he had made after finally being free...

_Slap._

His palm had struck Meta Knight across the face. The blue knight's head jerked to the side, but he didn't protest. His white, milky eyes had closed. He was trembling. Galacta watched how the spot where he had hit him turned an angry red. It was hard to tell with the flames' red light illuminating the scene, he noted.

With the same hand that had delivered the slap, Galacta brushed a few strands of his hot pink hair out of his face. They were wet with sweat; the heat was constantly increasing.

"Idiot," he whispered eventually and felt his fists clench, "You idiot!"

He felt Meta Knight tense under him.

"Idiot?," the blue warrior asked, "I am an idiot? Then what are you, wasting your last minutes on yelling at someone who has come to accept his fate peacefully?"

He sat up so quickly Galacta fell over. With speed and agility he hadn't thought a blind warrior could have, Meta pinned him, reversing their roles.

"You are the idiot," Meta muttered and suddenly his eyes seemed to stare right into Galacta's and though he knew this was impossible, it felt oddly good to the pink warrior.

He leaned up slowly, carefully...

He hadn't even crossed half the distance between them before Meta's head came down. Their foreheads connected painfully and Meta Knight drew back.

"Ow!"

Both rubbed the small bruises that started to form already. Meta was the first to stop. He chuckled quietly.

"Hold still," he said and something in his voice, probably the way it was suddenly loaded with emotion - though it didn't contain the kind of broken anger Galacta had expected to show up sooner or later - made him obey. Even more cautiously than before, Meta Knight leaned down and suddenly Galacta realized what was going to happen. He had known before, he just hadn't paid attention to it. He just...

Those lips that now covered his were rough, chapped - but unbelievably gentle. They moved very slightly, almost shyly, yet with the determination of someone who truly had nothing to lose anymore. Galacta abandoned his thoughts.

He felt paralysed by the action, the sensation. It felt good. Something in his chest, a weight he hadn't noticed before, disappeared. He exhaled slightly.

Feeling his lack of response, Meta Knight started to pull back.

'_No...'_

He reached out quickly, one hand grabbing the back of the other's neck as he pulled him back down. Meta Knight gave small sound of surprise, muffled by the kiss.

'_This is crazy. I am kissing the warrior who took my title. I am about to die and I am kissing my rival'_

And he found that he didn't care at all. Their lips moved against each other slowly, but steadily. It was a rather innocent kiss, closed mouths, light touches... And yet both of them knew that there was nothing innocent about the two of them, nothing at all.

Galacta's eye-lids drooped and shut. He felt how the tears he had been holding back before finally fell. They left wet trails on his face, scorching hot at first, then cold compared to the heat around them.

Meta Knight pulled back and this time, Galacta let him without resistance, his fingers sliding away from the blue knight's neck; they brushed over his jugular, then touched the chin briefly. He could hear the blue warrior's breath. Still quick. Something wet landed on his face, a small drop that hit his nose. Then another one, landing near his lips. Another one on the nose again.

"Now you're the one who's crying," Galacta stated. It had been supposed to be teasing, light-hearted - but it didn't come out as such. He couldn't even say what it came out as instead. It was gentle though, and it confused Galacta. He wasn't a very gentle person.

The rustle of clothes and the quiet clinking of armour sounded when Meta shifted to lay down next to his pink rival. Galacta opened one eye and turned his head to the side. Meta was facing him. Sweat formed in beads on his face, made his blue hair stick to his face. Galacta thought: _'I probably don't look any different.' _

'_He is beautiful,' _he thought. And then he mentally berated himself for thinking such a ridiculous, corny thing. And _then _he pushed that thought aside and decided that if now wasn't the time of corny lines, there wouldn't be any anyway.

He reached out carefully and clasped Meta Knight's hands in both of his tightly. He felt how the knight lifted his free hand to rest it on Galactas'.

They didn't speak for minutes that felt like hours. The fire had come so close the sky over them was darkened by the smoke. The air was hot and dry, barely breathable.

"We are the last ones. We shou-"

"Shut up," Galacta interrupted him, though quieter than before, "Please. Don't ruin it."

Meta didn't reply, staying silent as the pink warrior had told him to. The slightest hint of a smile appeared on his face, tugging at the corners of his eyes. Galacta leaned forward a little to plant a short, quick kiss on Meta Knight's finger tips. Then he closed his eyes.

And planet Popstar was the last one to burn down, the last one where the Catastrophe hit. Engulfed in flames, devoured by fire. And somewhere in there, two warriors, the strongest of all, drew their last breaths with their hands intertwined while all around them, the world ended in the flames of the apocalypse.


	2. Bonus

The air of the still young world buzzed with the sound of bees. Lush, green grass, dotted with bright dots of colors in the form of flowers stretched to the horizon.  
Sitting somewhere in the middle of the meadow, a little boy could be found. The green stems were so tall they almost hid him, but he had flattened a small, round patch of grass around himself, almost like a nest.  
A pair of pristine white, feathered wings were folded neatly on his back; his legs were crossed and his hands rested on a book in his lap. His whole body had leaned forward slightly to bring his eyes closer to the letters below. Long hair fell over his features, nearly hiding a pair of stubby, golden horns that had yet to grow. Brows knitted together tightly, he moved his lips slightly when he read. He was no older than eight, reading still was a hard task to him.

Suddenly, a rustle startled him. The boy looked up, wings spreading just a little. He listened carefully, but there was nothing now. Strange, he definitely hadn't imagined it. Suddenly, something dark rushed over his head from behind, fast and so close it touched his hair for a few seconds. Then a dull 'thump' sounded from further ahead when something - someone? - hit the ground.  
The boy jumped to his feet, book falling down, and pushed through the grass. His long robe got caught on the stems of flowers more than once, but he didn't pay it any mind.  
Then he found the source of the noise and a light-hearted laugh escaped him.  
"Meta! Are you okay?"  
Another boy sat up from where he had landed, or more, crashed recently. He glanced at the other boy carefully, then folded a pair of dark, bat-like wings on his back.  
"I'm... okay. Just fine. Um... Thanks for asking, Galacta."  
Meta stood carefully; he was taller than the other, a tiny bit. Galacta grinned widely and took Meta's wrist: "Come on then, I made a nest over there!"  
When he got no objection, he quickly pulled the newcomer over to where he had been sitting previously. Once there, he let himself fall to the ground with his arms folded under his head.  
Meta remained standing.

"I... I made something," the boy with the batwings said, "Um... It's... it's for you."  
Galacta sat up again: "Uh?"  
He watched how the other kneeled down to get on eye-level with him, holding up his robe so it wouldn't get any grass-stains. Then, he pushed one hand into the bag he had slung around his hips and pulled out a chain of flowers.  
"So you did learn how to do it!," Galacta chirped happily.  
Meta nodded eagerly, cheeks showing a hint of red. He stretched his arms out and looked at the other questioningly. Galacta dipped his head and Meta quickly placed the chain on his head, turning it into a sort of tiara.  
The pink-haired boy grinned and straightened up.  
"Thank you!"  
He leaned forward and gave Meta a small peck on the nose. The blue-haired boy grinned, cheeks still a rosy color.

Both of them lay down next to each other and looked upward, watching the clouds. Just when Galacta thought he would doze off, Meta spoke up.  
"I had a nightmare last night."  
The pink-haired boy remained quiet, waiting. He knew not to interrupt Meta in situations like this. And really, after a brief moment of silence, his companion continued:  
"I don't... remember much now. But it was really hot... and you slapped me. And I think after... after that we... I don't know, but it... burned."  
Galacta laughed quietly and turned his head to look at Meta, finding that the blue-haired boy's silver eyes were looking at him, too.  
"I would never slap you, dumb-brain!"  
Meta pouted: "It was a scary dream."  
The boy with the white wings rolled his eyes, but still reached out to grasp Meta's hand in a comforting gesture. He shifted a little closer, until he could feel the other's breath on his face.  
"Don't worry about dreams. I'll protect you. I'll protect you forever."


End file.
